User blog comment:Bartholomew Billberry Bowstring/Sharpe's Highwaybeasts/@comment-4677325-20120331022329/@comment-25220117-20120411143600

Foghill stares dumbly at the rock that was shoved into his paws, and almost drops it through sheer surprise "Mighty nice, ol' gent" He mutters darkly "A pretty little rock all for me"

Sharpe nods "Agreed, ol' lad. Anything happens up `ere while we're gone, tell th' bally word an' we'll be back" He turns to the otter "I `ope y' know `ow t' climb, ol' gel-Your goin' down with us. Two thirds o' yew gents-down!" He takes a step closer to the tunnel, giving it a long, thoughtful look